In the days that followed Lady De La Ware, touched by the affection Pocahontas manifested towards her, accompanied her everywhere, to the wonderful masque written by the poet, Ben Jonson, which was performed at the Twelfth Night festival, and to the play written by Master Will Shakespeare that he called "The Tempest," which represented court folk cast ashore on an island in the western ocean. Everything was so full of interest that her new life seemed to be leading her further and further away from the old simple existence of forest and river. Then came the presentation to the Queen, Anne of Denmark, consort of James First of England and Sixth of Scotland. Lady De La Ware had seen that Lady Rebecca's costume suited her dark skin and hair. Before coming to the presence chamber there were many halls and anterooms filled with courtiers and ladies, whose curious glances might have dismayed any woman who had not grown accustomed to a life at court; but Pocahontas passed on unconscious of them all. In the large hall which they entered last, hung with rich tapestries and furnished with dark oaken chairs and settles covered with royal purple velvet, a few pages and the Queen's ladies alone kept her company. As Pocahontas and Lady De La Ware advanced, the Queen motioned every one else to withdraw to the farther end of the chamber. She curtsied in return to the obeisances made by Pocahontas and her sponsor, but did not stretch forth her hand to be kissed as she would have done had she not considered this stranger before her as a princess of royal blood. "I thank thee for coming," she said graciously. "I have much desired to see thee. Captain Smith was right when he reminded me of what our people owe thee, he most of all." "He was dear to my people also," answered Pocahontas. "Hath Your Majesty heard how men speak of Captain Smith in the Colony?" asked Lady De La Ware. "My brother who is still at Jamestown wrote me that one of the colonists regretting the great Captain's departure said of him: "What shall I say of him but thus we lost him, that in all his proceedings made justice his first guide, and experience his second, ever hating baseness, sloth, pride, and indignity more than any dangers; that never allowed more for himself than his soldiers with him; that upon no danger would send them where he would not lead them himself; that would never see us want what he either had or could get us; that would rather want than borrow, or starve than not pay; that loved action more than words, and hated falsehood and covetousness more than death; whose adventures were our lives, and whose loss our death.'"